Natural Predator
by Not2BForgotten
Summary: It was a perfect mission with no incident, no enemy, nothing but a good trade and a possible new alliance...right up until Lorne got thirsty and everything fell apart leaving half the team stranded and severely injured, and threats from unexpected directions.


**A/N: Here's a quick oneshot starring Lorne! It's very old and I'm not sure how I like the ending but its all I could think of so I hope you enjoy!**

Lorne walked slowly listening to his subordinates chatter animatedly. The mission was an astounding success. They were going back to report the good news and prepare to bring home the vegetables and meats the natives promised them in exchange for regular visits from Carson. It was good for everyone. Beyond that the team had had a fun relaxing time. That wasn't something they got often. There hadn't been any danger. They made sure of it at first but after a week of going back and forth negotiating with the people it became apparent the only violence they partook in was that required to catch animals for food. Oddly enough they were the only tribe of people on the whole, very large, planet. They didn't know anything of warfare. The team was completely at ease as they wandered leisurely home following and twisting river. Shepherd had agreed to letting them take their time. The past missions before had been hard. They'd nearly lost Parrish twice his injuries had been so severe and they'd all been bed ridden with Carson fussing, and them not protesting, for over a week. Dooley spent three days hostage enduring torture for information because Jameson had been accused of practicing black magic but escaped imprisonment.

The easy mission was just the break they needed, time to regroup and recover. Parrish suddenly dove on something he saw lying on the ground. They all chuckled and started taking bets on how long he would drool over it and ramble. Jameson and Dooley found a cozy spot in the grass munching on power bars and lightly heckled Parrish as he investigated what appeared to be a simple rock. Lorne chose to stand rather than sit and was a few feet away from the lazy moving river. It felt good to stand having been the last to be in the infirmary and stretch his legs. He licked his lips suddenly thirsty and grabbed his canteen. Empty.

Lorne sidled closer to the river and dunked his canteen with a small splash filling it to the brim the stood and started digging through his vest pockets for a purifier tablet. He never saw it coming or even what got him as he was abruptly in the river choking on water. Instinctively he thrashed to get to the surface hearing his vest being shredded underwater. His head broke the surface for a second the waterlogged sound of his team shouting his name. He gulped air getting a mouthful of water as whatever creature had a hold of him dragged him under again. He felt light, too light and realized his vest was shredded to nonexistence as claws tore into his flesh. Then it sank its razor sharp teeth into his stomach low and on the left side and was _shaking _him like a rag doll through the water.

He couldn't hear his own underwater scream over the sound of ripping flesh and cloth. It was through pure adrenaline and desperation to _survive_ that he was able to get his knife and jam it deep into some unknown part of the creature causing it to shriek and momentarily let go. He broke the surface coughing and crying out in agony at the same time. He vaguely heard shouting and the splashing of water and then something grabbed at his right arm and shoulder but there wasn't the shredding pain of teeth or claws. He could feel himself being pulled backwards. Abruptly there was loud panicked shouting echoed through his ears awareness coalescing into two words.

"Look out!" he couldn't name the voice.

"Wha…" Lorne couldn't finish as something that felt big as a hippo slammed into his gut driving the breathe right out of him and claws raking down his stomach and legs and teeth sinking straight into the bone of his left shoulder ripping and yanking without letting go and plunged him underwater once more. Whatever had a hold of him from the right didn't let go and the renting of flesh tortured him from the left making him feel like he was being pulled in two. He kicked out thrashing desperate to escape seeing red with pain screaming underwater his lungs burning for air as they filled with water. From a distance he heard a _pop pop pop_ and then everything washed out and there was nothing.

0o0o0o0

Sir? Sir? Major Lorne can you hear me? Sir? Major Lorne?" the voice was faint and incessant. His body felt too heavy. He couldn't move, couldn't think. He wanted to just slip back into sleep but the voice wouldn't go away. Someone pried his eyes open light assaulting him forcing him to groan weakly.

"Hang on Sir" the voice was drowned out by the intense pressure growing in his shoulders and hip threatening to implode gradually coalescing into sheer unbearable pain. He tried to move, escape, run, evade the pain but his body was so heavy, he couldn't twitch a muscle. Someone nearby whimpered. It sounded so desperate and pained that Lorne's heart wrenched and he tried to move to help trying to push aside his own pain not realizing the sound came from him.

"Easy Sir it's going to be alright, just lay still Sir" another pained whimper distracted him from the soothing voice above him. He had to help them. He couldn't just leave someone that was in such distress! His body obeyed finally and twisted to get up. Boy was _that _a mistake. The world tilted washed white and spun as fire erupted through his body hands pushed at him again voices barking at him colored with worry were drowned out by the scream.

"Sir! Sir stop! Major Lorne you have to lay still!" he didn't hear them. All he heard was the scream followed by anguished whimpering and _knew_ he had to help. He couldn't just let them suffer knowingly. His body twisted once more in the other direction the pain reaching unbearable as Lorne's world fuzzed over his body going slack with exhaustion. His vision tunneled and the voices moved away as he began to drift.

"Major Lorne, no don't sleep, Lorne I need you to stay awake!" someone, Dooley maybe, called from so far away. They were smacking his cheek lightly as they spoke. Evan furrowed his brow and tried to roll away from the touch annoyed but someone was holding him in place. Why wouldn't they let him sleep?

"Sir you can't sleep yet. You need to wait till we get home first, Major Lorne?" he didn't hear Dooley trying to keep him alert. He was too focused on the sensation of something warm and wet trickling down his body, all over his body. He smiled.

"Sir? Sir are you with me? Major Lorne?" Dooley called truly scared now seeing the loopy smile of his commanding officer.

"S'raining…lovf'th the rain…"Lorne slurred.

"Hang on Sir we'll get ya home" that vaguely sounded like Parrish. He faded out again. He wasn't totally unconscious but he could only stare straight ahead not a thought in his mind.

"Oh man, we got to go Dooley, we have to go now!" Jameson cursed breathily.

"What? No we can't move him now it would kill him! We hardly have the bleeding under control!" Dooley argued.

"We don't have a choice, look over there" Jameson pointed in a wide arc on the horizon. In every direction but the village predators of uncomfortably large size were starting to appear and cautiously work their way towards the group. Parrish let out a frightened squeak and eased closer to the group.

"The village is closer than the gate, if we run we can be there in five minutes, ten tops and then we can send for help while we patch him up" Dooley suggested. They had the worst of the injuries bound up and were ready to leave in less than two minutes. Jameson bit his lip not sure if this mad dash would kill the Major or not but he didn't really see any other option. Lorne moaned faintly as Parrish slipped his arm over his shoulder and Jameson on the other side. He cried out in agony as they lifted him off the ground letting the darkness encompass him as they began to run.

The predators were much like foxes except that they were more the size of a small wolf and some of them were gold or black as well as rusty red. They were definitely pack animals and were trying to herd them toward some area Jameson wasn't quite sure. No matter what way he looked at them they were getting too close and too aggressive. When he felt a sharp nip at his heel he yelped and kicked back instinctively.

"Dooley make them to back off! Now!"

A volley of gunfire and the foxes backed off about twenty feet but no further. Sweat stung his eyes and his shoulders burned from the strain of Lorne's dead weight. He wasn't attempting to walk or hold any amount of his weight. A quick glance showed him to be unconscious. He could just see the outskirts of the village maybe a quarter of a mile ahead. Dooley fell with a cry a predator latched onto his calf shaking it furiously. He fired another volley of gunfire to drive the foxes back again in a panic and the natives came rushing to them having heard the noise and seen them hobbling fast as they could surrounded by the animals. The rescue was quick as the men charged the swarm of predators while a small group guided Lorne and his team into the town hall.

"What has happened?" Tarnan asked spying the blood trail on the floor left by Lorne.

"Some creature in the river attacked him, we were barely able to pull him free of it" Parrish squeaked and paced like the nervous, high-strung scientist he was while Jameson settled Lorne on the nearest table.

He shivered head lolling weakly side to side trying to grasp what was happening around him. Dooley limped in after them quick to ignore his injury and got a hold of Parrish settling him down putting him to pulling and sorting their medical supplies for easy access. With a task at hand Parrish calmed. Jameson peeled away the soaked clothing letting it slap to the floor. Dooley sank to the floor queasy at the site of the wounds lightheaded from his own. He waved off his comrades' worried glances. He could wait; Lorne couldn't.

The shoulder had popped free from its socket misshapen with swelling and great slashes of white exposed bone could numerously be seen. Gashes and punctures were deep and plentiful all oozing blood at various rates and all looked to be bad enough for stitching. Carson was going to kill them. Steaming water was brought and Jameson set to work with cruel thoroughness scrubbing every wound clean without mercy. He struggled to block out the sound of Lorne's cries and groans of pain eager to be done with the job. He doused every wound with iodine feeling nauseous at the effect it had on his commander then wrapped tight the worst of the wounds and plasters butterfly bandages on the rest. He'd done what he could. He piled blankets onto Lorne propping his legs up on one of their backpacks and asked for the fire to be built up. Evan's skin was cold and slick with cold sweat with fine tremors coursing through him. He tended to Dooley next finding him condition bloody, but wasn't life threatening so long as infection didn't develop.

Now there was nothing but waiting. Exhaustion caught up quick. Worry ate up energy faster than anything else. Dooley was already drifted off head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. Parrish was back to nervous fidgeting though you could see it in his eyes he had nothing left. The villagers brought food but were subdued. There were whispers about the creature and Jameson couldn't be sure but he thought he heard them murmuring about souls. He didn't ask. He mulled their situation fighting off sleep and watching Parrish pace trying to figure out his next move. It was out of the question to move Lorne. The predators were apparently still lingering on the outskirts of the village drawn by the strong scent of blood. They needed to get word to send a puddle jumper and Carson.

"Parrish sit down you're making me tired" he snapped. It was difficult to think with him pacing like a caged tiger and he feared he'd never get rested enough to take action when the time came.

"I'm sorry sir, I just can't calm down. I've never…never seen" he gulped.

"I know but he'll be fine. Carson can fix anything. Now sit and eat, get some sleep. You'll need your strength" he ordered. Parrish obeyed.

"You have a plan?" Jameson smiled tired.

"Thinking you and Dooley will make a break for the gate and get help while I stay here" he explained.

"But Dooley's injured" Parrish pointed.

"I know we'll let him sleep for a while longer and I'll check how he's doing and if he'll be able to walk and run. Now sleep" he tossed a blanket over the scientist and made a playful show of tucking him in making the man chuckle before drifting to sleep.

Jameson sighed. Couldn't a mission ever go well? He scrubbed his eyes and glanced at Dooley his cheeks a bit flushed. He couldn't be sure whether it was fever taking hold or if it was from the over strong fire roaring in the hearth made to combat Lorne's shock. He let him continue to sleep and went to his leader. The cold skin was gone and fever raged. He removed all but one blanket checking each bandage scowling to find almost all of them stained. He wondered if he could rig a saline drip. He wanted to give him some morphine for the pain which he regularly expressed with weak whimpers but he feared his condition too weak.

"S'goin's'on?" Lorne slurred suddenly eyes barely open.

"We thought the village food was so good we came back" Evan blinked confused eyes drifting to shut.

"No don't sleep yet Sir. How do you feel?" A stupid question but it was good to make him talk. Figure out how alert he was still.

"H'rts" his voice was wispy and thin. A shiver wracked his frame thankfully not constant.

"Can you breathe ok?" he continued checking his heart rate and blood pressure. Stabilized, almost, but fragile.

"Wha'?" he grimaced body tensing for a full thirty seconds then went lax looking more exhausted than before.

"Can you breathe ok?" He spoke slower and tried to be clearer. Lorne stared at him for a long moment making Jameson think he'd drifted unconscious with his eyes open when he gave a feeble nod. Jameson gave a sigh. They didn't have anything with them to deal with punctured or collapsed lungs. If worst came to be they could do manual rescue breathing but that could only work for so long. He could feel the growing heat from his skin, mild still, as fever worked into the wounds. "Think you can drink this?" he lifted a cup of tepid herb water the villagers insisted he drink. They said it fought sickness and he didn't have anything better to give his commander.

Lorne only managed a few sips coughing wretchedly afterwards and slipped into darkness quickly. The fever grew hot fast as the night drew onward painfully slow. He managed to doze a bit but only fitfully worrying over Lorne even as he slept. Dooley and Parrish managed to sleep undisturbed. It didn't go unnoticed as Dooley's cheeks grew red and sweat began to bead his brow in the middle of the night but Jameson wasn't surprised; Filthy predators. As dawn broke mist hovering over the ground Jameson heard the commotion of villagers in the town square.

"What's going on?" He inquired seeing all the men with their leather armor and spears in hand.

"Your friend suffers the curse. We hunt the river beast and will reclaim his soul!" one explained beating his chest with pride.

"Reclaim his soul? What?" Jameson struggled to keep up with their logic. He chose to blame the lack of sleep but really he felt like they made no sense.

"The river beast tore the flesh and dragged out his soul. He will burn and suffer for days while it feeds on his soul until he dies unless we reclaim it. We will leave in an hour" Jameson trudged back inside shaking his head confused. He had to send for help immediately.

" Parrish, Dooley, wake up" he snapped. Parrish jolted awake instantly but Dooley remained asleep until the scientist gave him a light shove. He stared ahead bleary eyed and disoriented for a time getting a queer look from Parrish.

"What's…what's up?" there was an odd wispy element to Dooley's voice that Jameson didn't notice as he peeled back Lorne's eyelids and checked him over. The fever was higher.

"You two have to leave now. The villagers are up in arms to catch that river thing saying it's eating his soul. More likely it's superstition born from no one surviving the infections after attack or maybe there's venom involved. Whatever it is I don't have a good feeling" He peeled back various bandages scowling at the rancid odor that emanated from the wounds. They shouldn't still be bleeding. Parrish fluttered about the room grabbing items here and there shoving them back into the packs not paying attention. Jameson stared hard at Dooley as he peered around blinking sluggishly but made no move to help pack up for a hasty run to the gate.

"Dooley?"

"Yes Sir, getting ready just taking a little longer to wake up, slept hard" his slight slur only made suspicions rise. He rose shakily leaning on one leg without realizing and took a step crying out sharply crumpling to the floor. Dooley moaned and rocked drawing the leg to his chest hands balled into fists by his fast as pain streaked through the leg like a fire heated needles. Jameson pulled at the pant leg while Dooley tried to fend him off until the wound was revealed.

"Shit. You're not going anywhere" Jameson snapped eyeing the burn red flesh swollen to nearly three times the normal size with small red streaks starting to travel up the leg and a thin leak of yellow fluid oozed down to the ankle. The heat radiating from it was incredible.

"I'm ok, can still run to…to the gate" he whispered eyes drifting closed.

"You're not going anywhere now drink this" Jameson sat him up and shoved aspirin and a canteen at him. Jameson remained quiet as he forced water and medications down Dooley's throat before scrubbing at the leg with a steaming hot cloth ignoring the protests of pain worrying over what to do now. He knew the answer already but hesitated in accepting it. His gut told him that the situation was changed. The nature of this creature, and the villagers' reaction to it posed some sort of threat that made him pause at leaving an injured Dooley to guard Lorne. He had no choice. "Dooley you're going to stay here. I want you to watch Lorne until we get back and don't leave him alone for a second understood?"

"Yessir" the water seemed to refresh him and the aspirin would help with the fever so Jameson hoped that would be enough to hold Dooley until they got back. He was afraid to see the natives' idea of medicine.

Dooley watched as they left, staring at the door, listening as they had a quick word with someone outside, and then they were gone and an unnatural quiet took hold. He stared at the door for a long time afterwards shifting in the chair trying to find a position that was more comfortable for his leg only making the pain exceed his limits. Now he sat still as possible staring at his commanding officer. The man was breathing but it was rough and labored. He wondered why they couldn't just go do a mission and come back without incident. He supposed they could only chalk it up to bad luck. Time passed unbearably slow punctuated by his sips from the canteen but otherwise nothing happened. He tensed up whenever he heard the village men return, especially when one would peak into the room solemnly then leave, afraid of what they would do. He didn't know if it was the fever or the fact that after a week of being so at ease with these people suddenly being afraid of them that left him feeling so out of step with himself. Either way he found himself checking his watch constantly unable to comprehend why each time only a minute or two had passed. It was about an hour into the wait, felt like six, when Lorne groan and shifted restlessly. Dooley cringed as he stood leaning on a makeshift staff to keep the weight off his leg though it didn't stop the fire coursing through it.

"Sir, can you hear me?" Lorne stared ahead eyes half open and thickly glazed with beads of sweat rolling off making puddles beneath him.

"H'me?" he slurred.

"Not yet sir but soon, Jameson and Parrish are getting a jumper with Carson"

"hnng" his eyes started to drift closed again.

"Wait Sir you need to drink some of this" he held a cup of tepid herb water for Lorne to drink. He resisted for a bit but found the effort too exhausting and surrendered drinking a third of the cup surprising Dooley. With a scowl at the bitter water he drank the rest knowing he needed it just as much. This was one of the few things the villagers had an abundant supply to spare. His stomach clenched in a knot for a few minutes before easing and he felt a bit better. Back to waiting he didn't realize as he drifted away into a dose his injured leg stretched out in front of him. It was two hours later that the cabin door burst open startling him awake and several of the villagers strutted in looking dangerously grim and morose. Dooley didn't know what but they'd clearly decided something and it wasn't good.

"What's going on? Did Jameson get back with Carson?" he shook his head trying to jog the fog out of his mind.

"No, and we have failed to kill the water demon that feeds on your friend's soul but if we sever the connection with the beast we may still be able to save him" the eldest of the men answered looking upset and worried.

"What do you mean sever? He'll be fine we just have to wait for Carson to get here" Dooley pushed himself upright shakily.

"To stop the demon from feeding on his soul we must remove the connection between them. This demon has planted the soul barb in the arm." The eldest explained once more while the others moved to surround Lorne.

"Wait. Wait a minute you mean you're taking his arm off! You can't! Don't do that he'll be fine!" Dooley struggled to get upright body trembling as the fever sapped his strength.

"I am sorry friend there's no other choice, we must remove the arm to sever the connection or he will suffer and die as the creature eats his soul! We cannot wait!" the leader protested. Dooley shoved at the others fighting to push them away from Lorne. The villagers looked distressed as they struggled to hold him back and pleaded him to be reasonable.

"No! No you can't do this! Stop, just stop and leave him alone!" He started to make progress getting the group to back away towards the door taking advantage of their reluctance to fight him when the leader took charge of the issue slamming the butt of his spear to Dooley's temple dropping him like a rock.

"Let's get this done with"

Dooley woke groggy and disoriented his head being hammered by some unknown force. He shook his head trying to clear his vision set aglow with orange fire and voices hovering all around him. He blinked to clear his vision his heart clenching as he felt his hands bound behind him with ropes and restraining hands at his elbows. He took a deep breath straightening some but felt feeble and weak only able to hold the position long enough to see one of the men with an ink brush drawing a guideline across Lorne's shoulder while in the corner, thankfully beyond his commander's sight, another man sat meticulously sharpening the blade they would use.

"Please don't do this" he could barely manage a whisper.

"We must friend. It's the only way" Dooley faded again.

He woke again to Lorne muttering incoherently. He was awake but only just barely aware. The villagers had a second narrow table pushed up to the one that he lay on and had his damages are stretched and tied to the table. The rest of his body was fastened with ropes at the shoulders, chest, waist hips and all the joints forbidding any movement except for the tossing of his head. Someone was pouring a liquid, their equivalent of sanitizer, over the blade that made it sizzle audibly.

"Please, don't do this to him, just wait for Carson. You've seen what he can do, how he can heal, he can save him without taking the arm. Please" He pushed against the hands still holding him.

"There is no choice, you must understand we don't want to do this but we must if he will live" one of the men tried again with a pained expression. Dooley tried to lurch forward and knock them away from Lorne again but the smallest movement made him curl in on himself with pain and the hands at his elbows were like steel bands.

"Take him from here we must be able to do this quickly" the elder demanded. Lorne moaned and looked around at all the blurry faces hovering over him.

"W't's going o'?" The men drug a struggling Dooley towards the door.

"Wait wait let me stay! He's awake you can't make him go through this alone!" The group paused and looked between the elder and Dooley. The elder looked gravely at Dooley for a long while then to Lorne sweat soaked, confused and looking frightened by everyone surrounding him.

"You will sit and remain still or I will you out without reprieve!" The elder snapped. Dooley readily agreed not being untied but was led back to the chair. He sat tense fighting himself not to jump up as they moved forward with the knife. The movement drew Lorne's attention.

"No don't look there Sir, Lorne, Lorne just look at me" Dooley called his voice shaking. Lorne tried to move but couldn't then looked toward Dooley barely able to focus on any one thing. "good that's good, just look here sir, don't pay any attention to them" His stomach lurched as the men began to cut. Lorne quivered and moaned trying to pull away from the pain but he couldn't even move an inch.

"Work quickly Lancan" The elder commanded hovering over the operation watchfully. The man had a stone cold face, like he'd shut down all of his mind except what was necessary to do the job. Lorne writhed and sobbed the deeper they sawed while Dooley kept calling to him drawing his attention from the men and their bloody actions heart pounding sick to his stomach unaware of the tears rolling down his face. His vision greyed in and out as he couldn't help but squirm his leg seeming to catch fire and electricity shoot through it till he could barely breathe. He didn't realize as the men holding him began having to support him to keep him upright. He sagged further and further focused only on talking to Lorne to keep him from looking at the carnage that was happening to his arm. He silently begged for him to pass out and stay out but the pain kept bringing him back. His head hung low and weaved about as he struggled exhausted dripping with sweat struggling to remain alert. He couldn't see how far the man was at his work, couldn't see anything beyond the floor now.

Dooley didn't notice the cacophony of voices barraging into the room. He remembered sinking farther and farther and his vision going to pinpoints. Sound echoed all around him punctuated by a familiar Scottish brogue he couldn't quite place. He jolted sharply at the sound of a gunshot, the only thing he truly did recognize, more shouting and then he really as falling. What was left of his vision smeared a faint vision of Colonel Shepherd flashed as he was caught just before hitting the ground and everything fell to black.

Beeping woke him next. He felt heavy and sluggish but the atmosphere had changed around him. He felt a strange sense of safety now. The familiar sounds were almost comforting except for that twinge of annoyance that was associated with the sounds and smells. He was in the infirmary again. He found the light hurt his eyes but he forced them open anyways. His last true memory was of the villagers cutting away Lorne's arm and him not being able to stop it then everything went blank. He stretched all his muscles struggling to remember his injury when he got the leg and gasped as pain shredded through the leg.

"I wouldn't move that leg yet, it's barely stopped bleeding and Carson will have a fit if he sees you move it" he turned bleary eyed to squint at Colonel Shepherd.

"What happened? Is Major Lorne ok? What about his arm?" Dooley coughed swallowing thickly his throat feeling like sandpaper.

"What happened is you couldn't find a proper enemy so you went and found the biggest animal with teeth you could find. We barely got there in time. You've been out for almost three days now. Turns out _both_ the river creature and the land fox, thing, is poisonous but because the natives eat the fox, thing, regularly they've built a natural immunity to the venom and didn't realize it was poisonous" Dooley fuzzed over struggling to focus.

"What about Lorne Sir?" he let his eyes drift before snapping them open feeling himself starting to sink into sleep.

"Well that's a mixed bag. The poison was pretty easy to nullify but the infection was deep set and the villagers cut through a good deal of muscle. They were almost to the bone when we got there. There was a minor fight and a few warning shots to get them to stop cutting long enough for Carson to pretend to do voodoo and _magically_ sever the connection between the creature. It appeased the villagers and McKay is still giving us hell about how he knew it" Shepherd explained putting aside War and Peace not a page further than when he'd picked up the book an hour ago.

"Can he keep the arm? Will it be ok?" Dooley fought to keep awake finding it increasingly difficult.

"Carson thinks so but we won't really know until the physical therapy starts. You should sleep." Shepherd stood to leave intent on letting the man sleep now that he was caught up on what had happened.

"What about…about team?" his eyes slipped closed and stayed that way against his will.

"Everyone is fine except for you and Lorne. I gave Parrish and Jameson some janitor assignments to change the routine a little. They seemed bored of the usual busy work" Dooley grinned.

"Parrish gonna pitch a….fit" he mumbled feeling the blankets pulled up to his shoulders again.

"Not as much as Jameson will, we had an incident with one of our scientists, got himself some janitor duties himself. Jameson got stuck working with McKay" Dooley laughed himself to sleep.


End file.
